Female Sexuality: Redacted and Undefined?

June 3rd, 2015

There is a process I go through, a process with which most of us are familiar, every time I get a new device. Even reformatting my Android phone or switching between keyboard apps makes this process a necessary one. It’s the act of adding words, whether slang, inside jokes or simply those left out for some reason or another by the keyboard developer.

I’ve posted screenshots of my personal dictionary to my friends because I was amused at the content. As you’d expect if you’d ever had a conversation with me in person, there are four-letter words in all their versions. If it can be used a noun, an adjective and a verb, I will love it all the more as a practical tool. Perhaps this is why “Fuck” truly is one of my favorite words. I can construct sentences from “Fuck” using only different tenses and word forms, and those all appear in my personal dictionaries.

personal dictionary

Swype isn’t down with sexting

Now, you can certainly write me off as a pervert with a dirty mouth, and I wouldn’t argue with that descriptor. It’s certainly not untrue. But it’s not painting the whole picture. You see, when my dictionary consists almost solely of words such as “cock” or “cunt,” it paints an even picture of the type of words that are withheld — and sometimes even suppressed — by the creators of these apps.

At best, it portrays them as prudes who are overly concerned with protecting their users from inappropriate conduct. And I don’t think “cunt” necessarily needs to be a suggestion as I hastily swipe away on my phone’s screen. This particular slang isn’t so common that it need pop up in our everyday communications, but what about “Sex?” Regardless of keyboard or how frequently I use that word — and you can bet it’s often! — no keyboard I’ve ever used has wanted to make it easier for me to easily add one of my most favorite words to a communique.

At worst, it highlights how ingrained misogyny is in our society. Yes, you’ve read that correctly. When I first picked up my Kindle Fire, I couldn’t imagine a specific time that I would send a message or post a tweet discussing vulvas and clits, especially given the awkwardness of the default — and only — keyboard. But I knew that time would come one day. It was a matter of when and not if.

I was utterly taken aback when the medical words, the correct terminology for female body parts, the very phrases that some people refuse to use erotically because they’re too cold and clinical sounding, were completely missing from my keyboard’s default dictionary. I couldn’t talk about my — or any — clitoris or vulva, even in a nonsexual sense, without first adding those words to a dictionary.

And, yes, I checked to see whether my Kindle was already aware of “penis.” It would appear that Amazon had truly developed a dick-tionary, a collection of vocabulary that acknowledged and suggested the rightful terms for a man’s reproductive organs but not those belonging to women. You can talk about the perineum, the anus and even testicles, but you’ll have to add “vagina.” It’s like this potential space in the human body has been obscured by the retail giant, like the non-sexual organs possessed by Alan Rickman’s angel character in the movie “Dogma.”

Ironically, my tablet recognize “kegels.” But I have to wonder if this is only because this is the name of a man, a doctor, who developed them. Without the vagina with which to do these exercises, that word certainly loses its usefulness! At least my Kindle produces this suggestion after having added the word to my user dictionary, rather than keeping it hidden away because it knows damned well why it was hidden in the first place!

There is some part of me that admits we live in a society both appalled by and obsessed with sex, and she is not overly surprised by these omissions of the suppression of sexually suggestive, well, suggestions when it comes to smartphone keyboards. It may be 2015, but I’m still forward thinking when compared to some. But there is no part of me that think this is an acceptable policy when only applied to female sexual organs in their most basic variations that are easily found in a traditional dictionary.

Are we still so uncomfortable with sex as a whole that we must police technology to discourage the use of clinical vernacular? Are we so obsessed with not talking about sex that nothing other than unhelpful, cutesy slang for our body parts, our orgasms and our sexual activity must be used, much to the chagrin of reviewers, sex educators and others like myself who talk about sex on a daily basis?

What does it say about a society when we obscure a woman’s body parts with black bars on TV screens and lines of code on our devices? A woman may have those parts — indeed, a trans-woman must have those parts to be considered as such — and there’s no negotiation that she must make them available to men. But she musn’t display or talk about them

Perhaps what it says about society is less important than what it does to society. It leads to woman in 50-year marriages without not a single orgasm to show for it. Women spend decades not receiving oral sex from partners who routinely accept blowjobs from their partners. They don’t discuss sex with their partners or even view talking about one of the most important elements of their relationship as a priority. It starts when we’re children, and it never ends for some people. Thanks to the Internet, more people are discussing sex than ever, discovering what their bodies can do, expanding their sexual satisfaction and improving their lives.

But the wrong messages — or no messages at all — are still being spread in other places. Teen girls aren’t even aware that masturbation is something they can do because sex ed only mentions boys jacking off. As a teenager, I once had to explain to my friend that her urethra and vagina weren’t the same body part. I’m constantly shocked about the number of women who can’t name their own reproductive organs or give even a brief overview of how their birth control works!

Women are afraid to discuss sexual function and dysfunction to the point of accidental but completely preventable pregnancy. A shockingly-large portion of women are afraid to discuss these things with doctors, medical professionals who should be at the front line, helping to combat sexually-transmitted infections and raise awareness about cancers other than break cancer one month out of a year.

The implications are worrying and far more vast than I could articular in these paragraphs. Indeed, it seems like I could write an entire book about the ramifications of dusting female sexuality under the rug.

This is why so-called scientists are still publishing articles debunking female ejaculation as a myth and British lawmakers have banned essentially any pornography focusing on a woman’s pleasure. Are we only allowed to discuss female sexuality inasmuch as it pertains to a man? Is it only okay to speak of it in hushed whispers but not in any manner where another person or computer can bear witness to the conversation having taken place to begin with?

Whether in print or on the screen, every effort is made to ban us from discussing, discovering and divulging what is one of the most important aspects of humanity — and certainly the most important aspect of myself as a person and a woman — and so few people seem to notice, let alone care.

But I cannot help but care. Because I am a woman. I have a vagina, a vulva and a clitoris. They don’t always make me happy, but they are mine. And I want to help others feel the same about their own parts.

I care because I want to send messages to my lovers about my cunt. I want to continue writing articles and sex toy reviews on this blog. I want to encourage my peers to seek medical advice when something seems amiss with their vaginas, and I don’t want to hear another living soul refer to the entire vulva as a pussy. I don’t want anyone to think they must call their vaginal canal a “vajayjay.”

And I certainly can’t stand that idea that anyone would subconsciously internalize, even for a second, the idea that discussion any of these things — and so many more — is taboo because their so-called smartphones don’t offer the terms as suggestions.

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Ugh

June 2nd, 2015

I’ve been sick for three weeks, and I’m just over it. I don’t want to test toys or blog about it. i don’t want to do anything other than watch FRIENDS while lying on my couch. And maybe order pizza. Maybe.

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Save on Sex Toys This Memorial Day

May 23rd, 2015

Good Vibes

Good Vibes has a sliding scale going on. The more you spend, the more you save! What does that get you?

 

The sale is going on right now so click the banner to shop!

 

Babeland

Enjoy a flat 20% off your order with code 20EMDW. Ends 5/25

Lovehoney

Save 25$ when you spend $25! This is a great coupon if you don’t plan to spend hundreds of dollars!

For starters, you can get the Stronic Eins for $146 or the Drei and Zwei for $150, the cheapest you’ll find them anywhere I think! Check out these items, too:

Le Mystere

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Frederick’s of Hollywood

Up to an Extra 75% Off Memorial Weekend Clearance Event + Free Shipping. Valid 5/22 – 5/25

Adam & Eve
Adam & Eve – Take $20 off $40, Plus Free Standard Shipping with Code: SPGSAVE – Valid through 6/30

Designer Intimates

Save 25% with code HAPPY25. Check out my review for ideas about styles that they carry!

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Boss Dildo

May 6th, 2015

I’m not sure I can describe how excited I was over the prospect over own the Boss dildo. I own the original AAA-powered Boss, which I described using the word “love”, and the larger and rechargeable Big Boss, though the latter is one of those toys I really should use more! I saw no reason why I wouldn’t love this new offering from Fun Factory.

Each of the toys in the Boss lineup varies slightly. The Big Boss was larger than the original, and the “stub” is a dildo with a suction cup base that doesn’t curve in a way that suggests “clitoral stimulation.” Not that the other two really offered much without bending them; although, I did do this with the original quite a bit.

I rarely order dildos in flesh tones, so was pleasantly surprised when this showed up in the caucasion variant, I guess. It’s also available in black, like the two vibes, and pink. The Boss dildo (pictured here with the Joyboxx Playtray) has a texture quite like the vibes. It’s velvety in your hand. During use, however, this creates a fuck ton of drag that requires nearly as much lube. This is especially true around the contoured head, which has a more intense “lip” than the vibes, but the overall head is less pronounced. The texture of the dildo also seems smoother than the vibes but no less draggy.

The Boss dildo is fairly impressive with seven insertible inches and a diameter of 1.7″. In terms of toys, the Boss dildo falls somewhere in the middle. The original measured 1.6″ wide and about the same length. The Big Boss is slightly wider and ever-so-slightly longer for insertion but definitely longer overall. Because of the color, the dildo appears to be wider, but black is just so slimming!

Big Boss, Boss dido and the Boss vibrator

Big Boss, Boss dido and the Boss vibrator

Because I don’t tend to warm up with other toys or use many insertibles that are this large, the Boss dildo just winds up feeling a little cumbersome. But the size and firm-ish texture are probably going to work really well for someone who likes that sort of thing. It’s firm enough to thrust like crazy once you’re all lubed up. Although, the asymmetrical suction cup base is a little weird for using as a handle. This isn’t a deal breaker, however.

The Boss dildo still has two ridges that come toward toward the base. These are more like the original Boss because the Big Boss, the ridges were quite defined. They’re more gradual on the dildo. With the vibrators, this was intended to stimulate your clit. This isn’t really the case, however, because it doesn’t curve enough, those the curve is more akin to the original Boss, too. Without the vibrations, it doesn’t do anything for my externally, so I find myself reaching for another toy.

The curve does do a decent job of stimulating my G-spot, but it’s no Pure Wand or Comet, so some people might need something more. Good Vibes also suggests you give this one a try for prostate pleasure.For me, the Boss is less about shape and more about size. It’s filling, and conquering it fills me me all sorts of price.

Ultimately, I think I like this shape better as a vibrator. Because I so often tend to simply hold it in place while stimulating my clit, it works better to rely on vibrations rather than thrusting as the source of pleasure with the texture on the Boss dildo. I’d love to recommend any of the vibes to my readers, but it doesn’t look like Fun Factory makes it any longer. This is a shame because it was a wonderful toy, both in vibrations and size/shape.

If I’m being honest, the Boss dildo is the type of toy I’ll keep in my drawer and forget about until i feel so guilty that I have to use it, but it’s not the type of toy I’d use for a quickie session where I want to cum, squirt and get back to work.

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12 Sex Toys I Need to Use More

April 22nd, 2015

It’s not that I do it on purpose, it’s just that I’m not very thoughtful about cycling through all my sex toys and accessories to make sure they get use and prevent them from picking up dust. I mean, it’s bound to happen sooner or later as a sex toy reviewer, right? I only have one clit and one vagina and two hands, and it’s fairly easy for me to get off, so I don’t need to use a bunch of toys every time I masturbate.

However, the truth of it is that I simply don’t use toys all the time. Or even most of the time. I usually pop open Tumblr, find a GIF I like and manually stimulate my clit. If I’m using toys, I’m probably using a clitoral stimulator like Siri, Ora or even my Layaspot, which has consistently remained one of my go-to vibes for nearly as long as I’ve run this blog.

D1 stone dildo by Laid

D1 stone dildo by Laid

And I reach for those toys repeatedly because I know they work. I keep them readily accessible because maybe I’m a bit too goal oriented? Or perhaps I don’t want to have to think about using the controls of a toy because it operates differently and I’m too tired or not paying enough attention to it to become reacquainted with it.

Of course being single and involuntarily abstinent at the moment means that I simply don’t have a chance to use my restraints, impact play toys and massage oils. But let’s not focus on that, eh?

For the most part, I don’t use dildos a lot. While I was a huge fan of my Spur before I killed it, I don’t seem to give as much love to Tex.

Glass dildos — ceramic and stainless steal, too — are especially forgotten when you consider how many I have. The Twist (1), which Liberator no longer makes, is a seriously enjoyable toy, as are the 24K Double Happiness (2, my first glass toy!) and the 24K Double Pleasure (3), which are essentially the same dildo but with different appearances.

I also don’t reach for ceramic much. This is mostly due to the fickle nature of the pieces in the Ceramix (4) line.

And the heft of D.1 (5) is what I usually use as an excuse not to reach for this gorgeous dildo more than I do.

It would seem that G-spot toys are the ones most pushed to the back burner — and the back of the drawer. This makes sense because I am able to squirt but not orgasm through G-spot stimulation. That’s why I own a number of internal vibes that I may not even have used since I first reviewed them — Rondo (6), Mona (7, which got some use for a while but no more), Form 6 (8, more battery issues), Boss and Big Boss and Stronic Eins (9, 10 and 11), a toy whose sensations I really liked. But it remains in its box on the floor of my bedroom since the second I pushed “Publish” on the review!

Mona (Red) and Mona 2

Mona and Mona 2 get no love )=

 

I actually try to use Yooo (12) more than I am able to because the battery just seems like it’s total crap at this point. The last time I reached for it, it was dead. Then, when I tried to charge it, the magnet wouldn’t click into place. After several hours, it seemed like it was completely dead, but I managed to situated the charge on my Kindle so that Yooo would finally charge. Annoying!

There are so many more toys begging to be used, but these ones stand out as the most regretful ones to be forgotten. I do think I might dedicated tonight to Fun Factory with the Yooo, my new Boss dildo and maybe one of the existing vibes. Considering as my Internet has died, that seems like a good idea!

I’ve had this draft sitting in my dashboard for over a year, and I think that I will finally get around to writing and publishing it. Not just for posterity’s sake but to encourage myself to use some of these toys a time or two again — and perhaps write some followup reviews.

So what about you guys — do you have any toys that you generally like but that have fallen to the wayside?

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Joyboxx

April 21st, 2015

Joyboxx
$34.99 from Joyboxx

Sex toy storage is such an interesting search. Many companies have tried to be the end-all and be-all of storage. They’ve created lighted boxes, pillows and tissue boxes that hide toys, locking cases and more. Up to this point, I think my favorite has been the Lovehoney deluxe sex toy case. It has everything I was in storage: ease of use, versatility and mobility.

In fact, so many storage options fail in that regard, that I don’t really use any of the ones I have. I have empty boxes sitting in multiple places. One of them I simply use as a bag for my toiletries when I travel. People like Epiphora use plastic drawers, which are easy to organize and cheaper on the whole than specialized sex toy storage.

But that doesn’t mean companies won’t still try, and Joyboxx is the newest one on the market.

Let’s start with opening the Joyboxx. The latch, which is also where the lock attaches, slides side to side to open. This definitely is a two-hand job, and it sticks a little because it’s plastic and not a nice, smooth metal. I definitely think this could be improved upon. I don’t even want to think about trying to open this is your hands are already covered in lube.

Closed Joyboxx with sliding lock

Closed Joyboxx with sliding lock

The Joyboxx is very plain from the oustside, and while I feel that a handle could easily be added to it, there isn’t one. This makes it less than ideal for travel, so consider this home storage only. Joyboxx also doesn’t have as many compartments and storage options as, say, Lovehoney’s sex toy storage box. It’s hard plastic, so you may want to line it with something if you don’t want it to make any noise.

Once open, the JoyBoxx is just that — a box. There are no other shelves inside, so everything is going to sort of be piled in there together. To keep things easy to find, I imagine you’ll want to not overfill it. There is a small air hole, which helps to keep moisture from building up.

The Joyboxx measured 11.25” (L) x 5.5” (D) x 3.5” on the inside. This means you’re not going to fit any gigantic wand vibes or the Great American Challenge (do you guys remember that thing?! Ugh!) or oversized bottles. But it will fit moderate sized vibes and dildos, a few restraints and smaller bottles.

Joyboxx lid comparment

Joyboxx lid comparment

One feature I do like is the little compartment on the lid. The cover pops up and you could easily fit some small things. Think cock rings, condoms or lube and wipe packets. It’s this much too small for Lelo chargers, but I bet some other chargers would fit, as would regular batteries. This compartment rests on top of the lid, which means you don’t want it open when the Joyboxx itself is open. I can’t help but wonder if, perhaps, a door that opened from the inside of the box would be a better idea, so you can access both at once. There is something inside the Joyboxx however: the PlayTray.

The PlayTray is something I wanted to write off as soon as I heard my inner voice reading the rhyming name. I mean, cutesy things more often than not, right? But the PlayTray is actually incredibly functional. It creates a surface for you to set toys, lube and accessories before and after use. You can simply pick up the tray and bring it to your sink to clean, and the slots in the PlayTray mean you can rinse toys directly on it. It actually fits quite nicely in my sink as you can see in the photo below.

Boss Dildo on the PlayTray

Boss Dildo on the PlayTray

You could also toss it in your dishwasher with the toy on top if you don’t want dildos touching the racks. Then, you can leave it in your sink (or dishwasher) or on your countertop to air dry. This eliminates a lot of issues with lint and fuzzies that silicone toys pick up — even from towels.  It’s sitting in my bathroom right now, but I can easily see myself grabbing the tray before playtime to set up toys and then depositing the toys back on the tray.

At 8-by-3 inches, you’re not going to fit all of your toys on it, of course. A slim vibe or a couple clitoral vibes will fit, as well as smaller bottles or packets of lube. In fact, the size is probably my only qualm with the tray. At this size, it fits awkwardly in the Joyboxx. It’s not wide or long enough to rest, but it just seems reasonable that you should be able to “install” the PlayTray somehow as a shelf inside the Joyboxx. This would also make the box more accessible so that everything needn’t be piled in it together.

With the small size of the PlayTray, it doesn’t seem like something that really complements the Joyboxx as much as it could. In fact, I almost want to recommend the PlayTray to my readers instead of the Joyboxx, rather than in addition to it! You could fashion something yourself, but the tray is dishwasher safe and free of pthalates, which is pretty awesome.

If you do buy both, you can mix and match the color of the tray and box. Right now, there’s only black and purple, and it matches my Liberator Throe pretty well as you can see.

As a storage solution, the Joyboxx didn’t quite smash it out of the park. It’s not as easy to use, versatile or travel-friendly as I would like — the Lovehoney case still serves me better in those ways. But the PlayTray does offer something in terms of function that no other company has done, and I’d like to see more efforts like that.

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Excuses

April 20th, 2015

I know it’s been over a week, guys. I know I usually blog more often. I really want to. I’m just so.freaking.exhausted.

2015 — and it’s like a quarter done already! — has been so busy. I’m not sure with what, but I feel like I never really get a chance to just sit down and breath. I’m not getting enough sleep and I’m still dealing with my broken heart on top of it.

I don’t mean to sound negative. For the most part, it’s been a ton of fun. I’ve been in high demand, and that makes me feel great. But as much as I intended to post a review before I went to sleep, I think I’m going to lie down on my couch and watch Friends and probably fall asleep.

 

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UberKinky Rounded Handle Leather Flogger

April 2nd, 2015

I think much of this is due to the hefty stainless steel handle. It creates a balance and allows you to direct your aim with ease. It’s actually much shorter than the falls on the flogger — about 7.5 inches from tip to the edge of the braiding. This fits very well in my fist. It might feel a little cramped if you have especially large hands, but i doubt it. I actually prefer the shorter handle to some of the other floggers I have.

The handle isn’t perfect, however. There’s a smoothed down but visible seam along with some indentations that I assume are from the manufacturing process. It doesn’t impact use, however, like it might if it were a stainless steel toy.

Because of the weight, it doesn’t feel like a “play thing” like those ridiculous little feather ticklers that would better be marketed as toys for cats than kinksters. The functional yet attractive design would fit in with any experienced kinkster’s collection. It’s on another level from most of the floggers I’ve already tried.

There’s a leather wrist loop securely attached and the end of the handle is bulbous, which makes it easy to grasp and difficult to slip from your fingers. You can also use this for storage.

The falls are longer than most of my floggers — between 22″ and 23″. They’re cut at an angle, and not exactly the same length, so it doesn’t look blunt. Each fall consists of a leather “Exterior” and a red, suede interior. It’s a nice, deep red that my flash and indoor light does a poor job of showing. The appearance is gorgeous, but the smell of that leather? Divine!

The falls are secured under a braided band. There’s no visible hardware, but I have no doubt of the quality. There isn’t any fraying or separating of the layers in the tails.

Because it’s made from calf suede, it’s obviously not the choice if you’re a vegan, but I love leather and meat too much to be. The tails fall heavily, with a satisfying  chorus of “thwaps.”  The dual layers are thicker than, say, the Crystal Whip. Although it was bent in the package, the falls have no kink in them, which is an issue I’ve experienced with cheaper floggers.

It also provides more intense sensations than some of those beginner’s floggers. You can use it more lightly, of course, but it doesn’t take much effort for a more stinging sensation because of the weight of the leather. There is a chance that this isn’t the best toy for you if you have arthritis or other hand, wrist or arm ailments.

I would recommend UberKinky’s Beginner’s Guide to Flogging to see if you might want to try flogging and to see how to get used to floggers. Per their guidance that your first flogger shouldn’t be heavy or have longer tails, you might want to opt for a smaller flogger to see whether you and your partner enjoys the sensation.

I haven’t been able to spend as much time with the UberKinky Rounded Handle Leather Flogger as I would like. In particular, I am looking forward to feeling the heavy falls against my flesh and the cold of the stainless steel touching my skin.

 

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Virgin

March 31st, 2015

He was a virgin. That was something I’d sworn I would never do. It felt so sex negative, judging someone based on their virginity. After all, it was a social construct that really meant very little. However, I just couldn’t bring myself to deal with the responsibility of being someone’s first let alone the awkwardness and having to be patient with someone learning.

Okay, I admit it: I’m selfish. But I’m okay with that, and I’m fine using that as my excuse not to sleep with virgins. So how exactly did we get on the topic of this virgin?

Now, I didn’t know he was a virgin at first. He was a reasonably good-looking guy I scrolled past on one of the many dating sites I frequent. And by frequent, I don’t mean that I troll them for NSA encounters. I’m not opposed to them, but if that’s the kind of mood I’m in, it’s Tinder for me.

So I see this guy who isn’t totally offensive to my eyes and whose profile has better spelling than a middle schooler. I flick through his photos and see a couple of tattoos and decide that asking about his ink will be my ice-breaker.

Flash forward a few weeks and daily messages. The conversation is fun, and I think I might actually want to meet him, and I never would have gotten this far if he had advertised his virginity. It wasn’t something he wanted to brag about, and I understand why. People like me would have looked right past him.

But I did look at him and the idea that maybe I want to meet him has crossed my mind a time or two when I sign in one night to see a picture of his newest tattoo, an intricate tribal-inspired sleeve that shoots right down his perfectly-sculpted bicep, flows across his arm and ends right below his fingers. I may be a sucker for ink, but his artist definitely had skill, and the design was done well even if it wasn’t something I would have chosen for myself.

So I express my admiration for this new tattoo while wondering what exactly that arm might look like with his fingers buried in my cunt, and he takes me by surprise by offering to show me in person. It was certainly an offer I couldn’t resist.

A few nights later and we’ve sitting across from one another at my favorite dive bar. It’s a quiet night, with a few rough-around-the-edges trucker types and a pair of barely-legal patrons who are taking turns picking top 40 hits on the jukebox.

I’m surprised I took note at all, to be honest. This guy, the virgin, was even better looking in person. His hair was artfully tousled, and he wore a pair of glasses he’d neglected to post photos of. That was quite all right with me, however; I’m a sucker for a guy in a nice pair of specs.

We did the awkward introduction thing, but the ink conversation gave us a good excuse to talk about something, anything, other than the weather. But it doesn’t feel forced like all those terrible first dates I’d been on in the past. He seems genuinely interested me, smiles often and teases me the way guys do when they’re attracted to you. I can tell I’m blushing. I can’t help it, but I’m not sure I want to, either.

We sip a few drinks, volley questions back and forth and make commentary about the other customers. He, as it turns out, likes little dives like this, too. I nod approvingly as one of my favorite Bad Company songs comes on the speaker, and my head begins bobbing to the music.

He surprises me with a completely casual comment about how he’d always wanted to have sex to the song. i’m pretty sure my ovaries are singing his praises, and that’s when he says it.

“But I’m a virgin.”

I try to pass it off that this sexy, flirtatious guy with ultra-hot tattoos has somehow avoided having sex. I’m sure my lack of a poker face did me no favors, but I tried to hide it by taking a long drink from my glass.

He’s obviously accustomed to negative reactions, and he rolls with it, segueing into a question about my own tattoos, which we have somehow failed to remark upon. I show him the symbol of my favorite singer on my forearm, and a spiderweb lace piece on my shoulder while talking about my plan for a black-and-white sleeve on the other arm.

I mention the sugar skull on my left thigh, regretting that I’d worn jeans so he won’t be able to see it, but he doesn’t miss a bit as he grins mischieviously and asks if I want to drop trou in the bathroom to show him. It’s so hard to believe he’s a virgin.

While I certainly would have declined that invitation had it come from a stranger at the bar, it didn’t seem quite so odd coming out of his mouth, and his charm was irresistible. I downed my drink and we made our way to the bathroom, trying not to be obvious in a bar with only a handful of customers.

There’s a strange sort of anxiety I feel about virgins, and it certainly reared its head as I wiggled out of my jeans. I wondered if this was the first time he’d seen a woman undress in any way, or if he’d perhaps had heated make out sessions with a former fling that just never lead anywhere.

Under the unflattering bathroom light, my tattoo came into view, and he seemed to take it all in while the last few notes of the sexy song faded away through the door behind me. I took a moment to myself, trying to quietly exhale while his inquisitive eyes were on me.

But then they were back on my face, and I was was reaching to pull my jeans up from around my knees. This wasn’t part of his plan, it seemed, as he stepped forward, pressing my back against the door and leaning down to kiss me fiercely. It was unbelievable, the type of chemistry I was feeling with this, this, virgin.

It was like electricity coursed through his mouth, straight to my lips, jolting across my tongue and igniting throughout my body. If I’d ever considered breaking my virgin rule, this was the best reason I’d yet had. And had he bent me over that grimy bar bathroom sink, I would have spread my legs and braced my ankles while greedily taking every inch of his cock.

He didn’t. I knew he wouldn’t, so why was it that his hands pushed my jeans further down my calves? Why would he carefully lift one foot out of the leg of my pants? And why would he leave the other entrapped? The swirling had barely stopped from our kiss. Now, head was swirling with other thoughts.

I don’t know if everyone else experiences it this way, but when someone’s mouth and tongue first make contact with my clit, it’s like a switch flips. There are no more thoughts. It’s feeling, it’s energy, it’s adrenaline and it’s noises that can barely be qualified as human, but it’s not about thinking.

So when he pulled aside my panties and pushed his tongue between my folds against my clit, I wasn’t relieved that I had worn underwear worthy of showing someone else. I wasn’t thinking that we were in a dingy bar or that the bartender, a friend who would surely give me hell later, had likely noticed our extended absence.

What I did was sigh, my chest heaving with the effort, gasp and allow him to lift my free leg over his shoulder. I leaned back to support myself, ruffled my hand through his hair, and let this near-stranger swirl his tongue around my clit and lap at my body with wide, soft licks that caused my legs to quiver.

I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning loud enough that anyone in a two-block radius could hear me, and I pushed my hips toward my new friend as he adeptly slid three fingers into me, my most sensitive parts surrounded by my body. His tattooed arm, just like I had imagined it, stretched out between my legs.

His mouth and his hand worked in tandem, as my body threatened to give out beneath me. For a brief moment, an image flash in my mind of the bathroom door breaking behind me and us tumbling out, me with only one leg in my jeans and him with his hand up my cunt.

But his eager attentiveness to my needs quickly snapped me back to the present, and I pressed his face against my body with renewed vigor. As best as I could, I ground my cunt against his face, glasses be damned.

Now, I may be lucky that I can cum easily, but there was not denying that this guy was damned good at what he was doing. It was one of those moments that felt like it both took a lifetime and was over in a heartbeat, but I’m sure it was no more than a few minutes before I was cumming — shuddering and nearly collapsing against him as only the muscles in my pussy seemed able of working correctly for that brief moment.

And then he was done, sliding the fabric of my panties back across my vulva, lifting my jeans back up to my hips and buttoning them as he leaned into me for another fiery kiss, the taste of me still on his mouth. I could feel him, his hardness and heat, as he pressed his body against me.

Sure, he might have been a virgin, but he wouldn’t be one for long.

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All The Things You’ve Given Me

March 22nd, 2015

In 2015, I am in the middle of a heartbreak. I know it will not last forever. I know that it may not be my greatest to date. And it may not be the greatest I’ll ever experience. That knowledge offers solace in its own way.

But now is not the time for solace. Now is the time to be grateful and to achieve that, I have been musing over all the things that the bartender has given me throughout our long and tumultuous triste. And I can think of no better way to do this than by saying “thank you.”

Thank you for surprising me. I am no psychic. I cannot see the future, and sometimes I assume that my inability to do so means that nothing good will ever happen. You proved me wrong. You proved that good times and amazing memories and even love, the type of loves that pushes you to the ground and knocks the breath out of you and leaves your vision in swirls, can come from unexpected places when you least expect it. It gives me hope that the future truly is better than I can imagine and that something good might just be around the corner.

And you are just the latest in a parade of people, flirtationships, partners, almost lovers and more, who have give me perhaps more than I deserve.

To the first one after my divorce — so many years after my divorce. Thank you for being comfortable, for being a kind person with whom to experience such a terrifying experience anew. You gave me the confidence and the assurance that it wasn’t so terrifying to be with someone else. You made me feel desirable.

Thank you you for liking me as much as you did. I needed that. I am sorry that I couldn’t provide the same for you in return. I hope you will have fond memories anyway.

Where would I be without the hot geek, the guy who felt like he would be my one who got away for years? Despite the fact that I know this is no longer the case, I wouldn’t be even a fraction of who I am without his accidental assistance.

Thank you, then, to him who taught me I am a nice person. I had never dared consider that about myself before him. Thank you for flirting and laughter and cuddles and the best kisses of my adult life. Thank you for allowing me to (re)discover my geekery. Thanks for being humble despite being such a treat for my eyes to feast upon.

I hope the woman you found does all of this for you and more!

To my ex-husband, the person who deserves thanks in various and confusing ways. I know I will miss things that could be added to this list, but four years is a long time to remember all those little things.

Thank you for the inside jokes, your adorable silliness and for being the first person with whom I could express my sexual side without hiding it. Thank you for, literally, showing me the world. The time away from my home town and my family made me appreciate them all the more when it was finally time to return to them.

Thank you for making me believe in the institution of marriage, for the first time in my life, if only for a little while. Thank you for bringing a sense of calm and serenity to my life and for being the first person to hold me together, physically and emotionally.

I am forever in your debt, not only for sharing a life, money and a home, but for the pets we would adopt together. Thank you for allowing me to keep them. During out time together, I was finally able to feel like I wasn’t facing this world alone. I felt like I was part of a team, and that other people understood the same struggles we were going through.

And, finally, thank you for leaving me. I am not sure when, or if, I ever would have had the courage to leave our marriage. I loved you so much, but you were slowly killing me. Although I still disagree with your reasons and ultimately think that our marriage could have worked had we better worked together, the sudden change in the direction my life went in is the single greatest motivation I’ve ever had to be happy. And I needed that.

It was through our separation and divorce that I finally found a counselor who clicked and a counseling style that I still rely on to this day. It was through those trials and many, many errors that I would build the foundation of the adult that I am today — well-adjusted, compassionate, caring, helpful, three-dimensional, sex positive and more.  While I cannot say for sure that it wouldn’t have happened anyway given time, thank you for pushing it to happen more quickly. I am glad to have the worst behind me.

Thank you for showing me that I needed to believe in myself so that I could avoid the same mistakes we made with future partners. I hope you’ve learned anything at all from us. Without you, I am not sure I would be able to feel grateful to anyone who came after you.

Thank you.

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